Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way shape or form. I do not claim to own him or anything else that may in fact be the thought of the lovely writer Jo Rowling is, please don't sue me. I do however own all original characters in whole or in part that appear in this story. This story is not HBP compliant, though quite a few things are taken from that book; again I own nothing except for the plot and original characters. Thank you for reading! –Gypsy Jade

Summary: Not fully HBP compliant. Harry starts having strange dreams and they all end the same, with unearthly silver eyes haunting him. Something is going on and for the first time in the last 10 years if not the history of Hogwarts two new teachers grace Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Chapter 16

Masquerade Madness (part 2)

Author's Note: This is one of those chapter's who's had more revisions than any homework I've had. And who's to blame? Only myself, due to the extent of my own plot lol what can I say kiddies? I'm ambitious. Anyway there is one point of my plot which I'm toying with perhaps some of you would like to help, in which case please send me word by Owl (lol couldn't help it) or friendly neighborhood, e-mail. Enjoy.

Half a week never seemed so short to Harry or his friends; between the rest of their class load, last minute preparations for the Halloween ball, and new "study sessions" with Professor Van Houten, there just did not seem there were enough hours in the day. It was the last day before the ball when Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves going to meet Yamele.

"Isn't Ginny supposed to come as well?" Ron asked Hermione just as the three came upon the portrait that hid the entrance to Yamele's quarters.

"She went to get Pansy and Luna" Hermione watched as Harry politely asked the girl in the portrait to alert Yamele to their presence.

"Who is this portrait of anyway?" Ron poked a bit at the edges of the portrait, this was fairly normal considering he had gotten into the habit every time they came up to see their teacher.

"Somehow I doubt poking her portrait is going to give you any answers Ron" Harry shook his head bemused at his friend's antics. The didn't have long to wait before Yamele was at the portrait hole giving them entrance, but as they sat down in their usual spots to wait for Ginny, Harry noticed Yamele was acting very peculiar. She looked quite upset by something, and he knew she must be worried about something, over the time they had gotten closer Harry had picked up on some of Yamele's quirks. One being she had a habit of playing with her hair when she was stressed or worried about anything.

"Is something the matter Yamele?" leaving Ron and Hermione to start an odd sort of argument about the appropriate way to ask a portrait who didn't seem to speak who they were, Harry approached Yamele.

Yamele looked at him but Harry got the distinct feeling she wasn't really seeing him, rather just had this glazed look had covered her face. That's when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the tense body language as he drew closer. Something in Harry stirred as she failed to answer him. Over the week Harry had learned quite a bit about his official unofficial girlfriend; for instance being a "Halfling" as she was referred to Yamele didn't drink actual blood on a daily basis instead she drank things like blood wine. And while the sun could harm her it took far longer than for a full vampire, so she could go out in the sun with the proper attire. Yamele had her secrets...and of course he could only hope one day he'd be fortunate enough to be told. As if she had finally been released of her trance Harry watched her eyes refocus and offer him a small smile.

"Sorry Harry, I zoned out a bit. You were saying?" Her mercury eyes finally focused on his jade ones and a sliver of how she had been before came through.

"I was wondering what's worrying you so much." Harry gave himself the leisure of pushing her hair out of her face. Yamele in turn leaned into the touch, sighing softly and looking up at him brightly.

"Just age Harry." As if she had only now noticed them Yamele's eyes were drawn to Ron and Hermione's odd argument. Raising an eyebrow and slipping off of the stool she had been perched on she made her way over.

"What's all this then?" the two stopped arguing to look up at the young Professor who with her hair slightly messy looked much more likely to just be a friend.

"Ron's being daft" Hermione huffed and stood planting herself on the armchair furthest from him. Yamele looked back at Harry who looked back at her and shrugged as if to say don't ask me.

"I am not being daft...it's a valid curiosity" Ron huffed his ears starting to turn pink. Yamele raised an eyebrow turning to Harry with a look on her face that to the latter clearly stated she wasn't in complete spirits to referee an argument between the two.

"Ron you're not still on about the portrait; are you?" Harry hoped that was enough for Yamele to go on, seeing as she really was the only one to answer that particular question. But before anyone had any sort of action could be taken the portrait hole opened and in stepped a much disheveled figure.

For a moment Harry could only wonder why they hadn't heard anyone knocking on the portrait nor why indeed the portrait seemed to have opened to admit someone in without their knowledge. But just as well everything changed again as he watched transfixed Yamele attach herself to the figure hugging them tightly and sounding on the verge of hysteria. Taking a look back at Hermione and Ron he could tell hey were both thoroughly confused, from their angle none of the teens could see the figure's face, and though there had not been any true reason before Harry could feel that immense surge of jealousy trying to escape the pit of his stomach.

"Oh Circe; Remus, you're alive...thank heaven's you're alive...I swear I would have ..." what she would have done and to whom they wouldn't know because as Yamele's words finally became coherent she let go of the figure and the trio clearly recognized the man as Remus. If it hadn't been that they knew that the full moon was the next day, they would have all thought that Remus had just finished transforming back from his werewolf form. Slowly walking closer Harry noticed Remus was clutching something tightly in his right hand, his left being half way around Yamele who still hadn't let go of him.

"I'm alive, slightly worse for ware...and I absolutely refuse to ever do that again in my life." Remus sighed and slightly sagged, Harry rushed over to help him.

"Let's get him to the couch Harry" between Yamele and Harry they managed to get Remus over to the couch without banging him up anymore, much to his relief. As he allowed himself to get lost in the comfort of the couch, Remus held out the envelope to Yamele an odd mask fell over both their faces as she quickly read over the letter.

"Perhaps I should go to Madame Pompfrey..." Silence had filled the room and as his attention was drawn back to his ex-professor Harry noticed Remus was having what looked like cold sweats and shivers. As if they had been waiting for that cue, Ron and Hermione helped him up and soon the three were shuffling out of the portrait hole again. Why hadn't Harry gone with them? After all he was worried about Remus, but he felt as if he had been rooted to the spot. Part of him just knew, Remus would be fine, but Yamele, he wasn't so sure.

At the moment she was in an armchair, looking as if the life had been taken out of her. As pale as she usually was, Yamele at the moment could give Snape a run for his galleons in the sallow skin department. Even her hair had lost its normal bounce and seemed to lay flat against her head.

"Yamele?" Harry moved closer and sat on the coffee table, putting himself eye-level with his obsession trying to get her to focus on him. She didn't respond she only sat there, staring at some spot of space between her and his face.

"Yamele do you think it would be okay if I dated Draco?" Harry instinctively ducked and not a moment too soon as anger seemed to register in Yamele and she reached out to either slap him or push him off the coffee table, he wasn't completely sure which she was aiming for.

"What the bloody hell do you mean...oh...Circe Harry that was not funny!" Yamele finally shook out of herself and gave Harry a half annoyed look, and though he knew he shouldn't he smiled at her, he couldn't help but think the way her cheeks had suddenly turned red made her cute. Not that he would voice that particular opinion at the moment, he was sure she'd throw the nearest thing at him, and from his line of vision that happened to be a very large tome. No he rather liked having his head connected to the rest of his body.

"I had to get you back to the land of the living, love. So what's the matter?" Harry stood and held out his hand to her pulling her up.

"Ugh, frankly I'd rather not tell you." She made to move away from him towards the couch, but Harry held firm.

"Yamele, I know something is wrong. Please tell me, if you can't trust in me...than what good is all this trouble we're going through?" He felt her sigh against him, her body language changing from defensive to inclusive.

"When did you become so wise?" Harry just shrugged as she gave him that half smile he was falling hard for. She pulled him towards the couch and they sat snuggled together as she shed some light on the situation.

"You know that technically I'm to become the next Head of the Council, and that I'll be the first Halfling to do so. But because of that, there was a chance that even though my father was one of the best Heads the Council has seen in a few centuries, my place would be contested. And so it has, on my birthday the Elders will send me some form of test to prove that I will be able to lead their clans successfully." Harry watched the emotions flash across Yamele's features as she talked.

"What exactly are they sending? I mean they do know you're at a Wizarding school, they wouldn't send anything that would endanger anyone would they?" Harry understood that just like wizards, or anyone, not all vampires cared about the safety of others, and he knew what kind of havoc that would reek on Yamele.

"They know, and it would only possibly endanger me no one else." The flippant way she said that made something in Harry run cold and he couldn't help but reach out and wrap her in his arms.

"Let's talk about something else...want to hear about the portrait?" she seemed to relax against him and deciding to store the information for later Harry agreed.

"Sure this way I can finally tell Ron and he'll give it a rest already, I swear 'Moine and I are getting close to just hexing him one of these days." Harry allowed himself to focus on the silkiness of her hair as he ran his fingers through it slowly.

"Don't hex him...you'll miss him later. The girl in the portrait is my half sister; my father had it made before she was murdered. Her name is Mariska, before he met my mother, my father had a vampire mate; anyway Mariska was the fruit of that love. Mariska was very intuitive for her age, even for a vampire child, and she often wandered down to the local village to play with the children. Normally her mother would accompany her, but one day Mariska went down on her own, pulled by some force to the one truly dangerous house in the entire village. There a wizard lived with his only son, Mariska had never been allowed to play with the boy, who in truth was about twice her age, Mariska was 6 in human years and the boy was 12. Anyway, Mariska soon found that the boy was very lonely, since his father didn't often allow him to mingle with the other children in the village. Some say it was for fear that they'd find out they were wizards, but in truth it was because of the kind of wizard he was. The boy often wandered into the woods behind his house, the only place his father wouldn't forbid him to go and so Mariska followed. Seeing as Mariska is the only one who knows how, I can't say how it happened that they became friends but they did. As far as I can tell, to Mariska at least, she had found her own mate. The problem was that the boy's father would never allow it, and the less time Mariska spent with the other children in the village, the more rumors came to light. One way or another, the boy's father heard what was going on...and the next time Mariska went to see him, his father was waiting. And not caring that his son would see, the man killed Mariska..." Yamele sat quietly as she finished, Harry not being able to say anything that could make it better, only held her tighter.

"Stop dwelling on it sister. It could not have been helped." The voice was light and though it should have been innocent, it was filled with the very same tone of wisdom Harry often heard in the young woman cradled in his arms.

"And how long have you been eavesdropping Mariska?" In some odd form Yamele's tone was light as she addressed the girl in question, who somehow had managed to slip into the pages of the catalog on the coffee table.

"Long enough to make sure my story's been related right...and to ensure my baby sister's virtue is kept intact." To Harry's horror, he could feel his cheeks start to burn at the words.

"Honestly Mariska...there's not a whole lot you could do about that..." He could practically hear her eyes rolling as she leaned over to pick up the catalog.

"That dear sister is aside the point. Now I've found the perfect outfits for the both of you would you care to see?" And there it was some form of the impish smirk he had come to expect from his own Vampyre as Mariska fully diverted their attention from anymore morbid thoughts for one day.